


Camp Fuck You Sam

by bravest



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Camping, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-26
Updated: 2013-08-26
Packaged: 2017-12-24 17:55:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/942917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bravest/pseuds/bravest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So maybe camping is really stupid, but maybe good things do happen, after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Camp Fuck You Sam

Camping had been Sam’s idea. Dean had no idea what possessed his brother to suggest it at all; he was too happy with his bed and his fucking amazing shower to ever want to experience anything else if he could help it. Old motels were one thing, but camping,  _by choice_  was kind of fucking crazy.

 

Castiel wasn’t too fond of the idea either, if his passive aggressive questioning was anything to go by.

"How will a tent protect us from a hurricane?"

"Do we need a flame thrower to get rid of the bugs?"

"Can we make burgers there?"

"What about coffee?"

Sam did his best to answer Castiel’s questions, but Dean was on his side. He would rather sleep in the car. His father’s idea of camping had been driving until he couldn’t see straight, pulling the car out of sight in a field, and sleeping on the hay or grass or in the front seat of the car while Dean curled up around his brother on the backseat to keep him from rolling off in his sleep.

Now that he had memory foam he saw zero reasons to go camping. But as much as Castiel kept squinting at Sam, he never downright said he didn’t want to go.

And so they went.

The first part of the ordeal was a disaster, for the most part. Dean and Sam fought about highways and maps and side roads, while Cas petulantly declared that he was hungry  _now_ , or that he needed to use the restroom.

"Now?"

"Yes."

"Can you wait 10 minutes until the next exit?"

"No."

It was like dealing with a child, and Sam was babbling excitedly about the forest and the river there and how there were hike trails and waterfalls and really old trees and shit, and Dean really didn’t give a fuck, and Cas kept rolling his eyes like _I’m older than that forest, dipshit._

Needless to say, getting there takes them 5 hours rather than three. They get there whole, at least, but setting up the tents is another matter entirely. They have two, pawned off of Charlie. He helps Sam set theirs up because Castiel gave him that look when he asked him if he knew how to put it up that says _back the fuck off Winchester I’m not a child I can tie my own shoes thank you_.

Dean is starting to think Castiel assumes they’re doing this to torture him or something. He’s insufferable, and so far he’s gotten like 20 of those wordless looks that say everything. Basically, Castiel is pissed.

He leaves him to his tent, but glances at him to make sure he actually knows and wasn’t just saying he did so he could figure it out himself and wreck the whole thing somehow. Cas has all the tent parts laid out in front of him, and is standing above them. He’s staring. Just staring, in silence, frowning a little, and it’s almost cute but mostly it’s irritating because if he doesn’t fucking know how to set it up he could  _ask_ , which actually is hilarious because Dean knows how that is and probably wouldn’t either.

He realises how dumb that is.

Cas is still staring.

"You okay, Cas?" Dean calls, and Cas raises his hand to stop him but doesn’t even bother answering or looking at him, so fine.

"You have to put the thing in, Dean," Sam tells him, snapping his attention back to the stupid bendy pole in his hand. Sam is holding up the entire thing by himself, being like 5 feet higher than it is, and Dean wonders how they’ll both fit in there before Sam hisses.

"Dean!"

"What?"

"The thing! Put it in!"

“ _Where?_ ”

"In the LINING! IT’S RIGHT THERE!"

"I know how to put up a tent, Sammy," he says through gritted teeth, and Sam glares at him. He gets his part done, lets Sam tie the two poles together at the top so it holds, and Dean looks over his shoulder at Cas to let out a scream.

His tent is almost done, holding up on it’s own already.

"What the fuck?!"

Cas wipes his hands on his jeans, turning to give them a falsely innocent look because the little shit is so smug Dean can feel it wafting off of him.

"Good luck," he says as he pats them both on the shoulder and heads to one of their (also borrowed) lawn chairs, flopping down on it. He watches them struggle, raises his eyebrow at Dean’s repeated looks of disbelief and annoyance because seriously, what the fuck? Unfortunately Sam gets the brunt of this irritation. They nearly wrestle each other when Sam slaps Dean’s arm and then tells him there was a bug and Dean smacks him right back in the forehead, but they nearly fall on the tent which cuts it kinda short because that thing was more difficult than it should have been. It’s only after a brotherly screaming match that they get their tent up. 

After which Sam declares that this one is his, throws himself inside, and zips it shut.

"You can share with Cas. I’m going to take a nap," he says to Dean’s offended cry.

"Fuck," Dean says, turning to Cas. "I’ll just sleep on the floor."

Cas frowns and shakes his head, standing up. He picks up a sleeping bag from their pile of stuff, the fluffiest pillow.

"We will share the tent," he says, and grabs another set of sleeping bag and pillow, shoving them at Dean. It’s not even dark yet, and Sam is already snoring from his tent or pretending or something and what is he even playing at?

"This was a stupid idea," Dean says through gritted teeth, flinging his pillow and sleeping bag into Castiel’s perfectly steady tent. He crawls in as angrily as he can muster being that crawling isn’t the most expressive thing, and also it makes him feel dumb because he probably looks like an idiot, but whatever. 

Cas crawls in after him and sits cross-legged, his pillow on his lap.

"Can we make burgers?"

"You had three on the way here," he says, fluffing his pillow up and lamenting the fact that it’s too flat.

The next thing he knows, Castiel is at his side, leaning in.

"Don’t move," he breathes, and Dean’s own breathing stopped for some reason? It’s like his brain shut off temporarily and all he’s aware of is  _Cas_ , so close he feels his breath on his cheek, and what is the idiot doing, and he tries to look over at him without moving his head and there’s the squint and a look of concentration and then two fingers come and pinch at his cheek.

"Got it," Cas says, holding up his thumb and forefinger, between which a mosquito is trapped.

"Oh," is all Dean manages to say, and Cas gives him that little shy smile of him before turning away on his hands and knees to wipe the bug off outside, his arm reaching the grass right outside of the tent entrance.

Dean looks everywhere but at Cas’ ass.

He notes the tent is small and that they’ll probably be in really close quarters all night. Really close quarters. His heart races and he wants to rip his hair out because  _everything is so stupid he’s stupid Castiel’s stupid pretty face is stupid and so is his really nice a —_

"Dean? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just. Uh. Nothing," he says, and wow, smooth, Winchester. "I’m gonna. Go make you that burger."

He crawls out of the tent so fast his foot gets caught and he nearly tears down the whole thing. Castiel doesn’t comment, and Dean stomps off without looking back.

The evening goes well. Sam yawns so loudly he might as well be reproducing the mating call of a bear, but at least he’s up. Just in time for him to be like _smells good, can I have one?_ and Dean can’t really say no even though he wants to, because he likes making food for people and seeing them enjoy it. It makes him warm and fuzzy and fuck, since when does he feel things like _warm and fuzzy?_

They have a couple of beers around a fire. Castiel is huddled in a sweater, the breeze growing colder with the sun gone. He glares and jerks at every bug in his vicinity, until they get him talking about his way back home. He shares stories of the people he met, of how the homeless are some of the most generous and open-minded people he ever met, and did you know one of them invented Apple computers?

Dean likes listening. Castiel has a nice voice, and his stories are told nicely, like a book, there’s order to them and his words are chosen carefully and he just likes it, okay. Cas doesn’t talk much, all things considered, so having him keep going like this is just…nice.

Eventually Sam gets up and stretches, waving them goodnight as he stumbles to his tent.

Dean stays with Cas. They’re both quiet, and then their eyes meet and they just look at each other for a while, and Dean isn’t sure this is the moment to ask Castiel to stay with them, long term, but he does it anyways.

"You should stay. With us. At the bunker, I mean. Longterm," he stutters.

Something changes in Castiel’s face. Dean can’t tell if he’s happy or sad or angry and he clenches and unclenches his fists, trying not to panic. He’s been working up the courage to ask since Castiel came back, and so many times the words almost slipped past his lips before dying on his tongue.

He looks up at the stars so he doesn’t have to read Castiel’s expression.

Cas doesn’t say anything and Dean gets ready to hear a thanks but no thanks. He squeezes his eyes shut and looks down again, opening his eyes to Cas standing and looking down at him. _  
_

"Hey," he croaks, and Cas reaches and cups a hand to his face, and Dean swallows, and fuck he wants him to stay so bad, he wants to wake up and see those stupid blue eyes look back at him, wants Cas to grumpily demand coffee, wants Cas being a smug asshole about being faster at setting up his tent, and he wants it, wants Cas, and he’s never wanted as badly as he wants this.

"Dean," Cas says, and Dean opens his mouth and tastes the word  _please_  on his tongue. It’s fucking insane how he’s fought monsters, devils, Lucifer himself and yet he’s never felt anything as terrifying as this. “Dean,” Cas says again, and his hand falls to his shoulder, and squeezes and he leans down and Dean thinks  _please kiss me_ which is a little silly and he almost laughs at himself because how can he even assume Cas falls a fraction of what he does? He’s so beyond the little things that make up Dean, sometimes it makes him dizzy to think about.

He doesn’t kiss him, but he leans in close enough to whisper, and he can’t look away from him, Dean’s eyes are locked in Castiel’s and when they aren’t they fall to his lips, and he thinks of how he’d just have to lift himself from his chair a tiny bit and tilt his head just like that and he’d be kissing them and he can’t breathe, and he listens to Castiel’s soft whispers with a fast beating heart.

"There is something I learned since falling that I haven’t yet told you," he says, and Dean looks up at him and Castiel’s other hand comes to rest at his arm.

"I’m listening," he breathes, and Cas smiles soft and warm and there’s the fire behind him lighting his edges like he’s made of light.

"I’m stupidly in love with you," he says, and Dean thinks he’s going to cry, and his old instinct is still to bolt, to run, to be all haha, ok cool, and then vanish and run because it’s too much to be loved by anyone, it’s not anything he deserves and least of all he doesn’t deserve it from a fallen angel that he has, admittedly, treated like crap more than once.

He would rather have kissed Cas, maybe slept with him, because then they wouldn’t have to talk about feelings or acknowledge it, because it feels huge in his chest and right now it feels like it’s trying to claw it’s way out and there’s no way they can do this, there’s no way they can allow themselves something so big and good and fucking fuck fuckity fuck, Cas loves  _him_ , and he never even dared think the words, instead he did his best to shove fleeting thoughts of Castiel’s hands and his waist and his lips away, covering up for the fact that below the physical there was something so much bigger and infinitely terrifying. Like the universe, it’s in constant expansion and it’s too infinite to even fathom.

He takes a deep breath and then he grabs Cas and pulls him down and kisses him like he’s never kissed anyone in his life before, and his hand lets go of his beer to fist at the back of Castiel’s collar and his arm is going around him and pulling him down as he arches up and their lips fit together like they were meant to and he doesn’t give a single shit about his beer now spilling onto the ground because Castiel’s arms are winding around him and pulling him up until they’re both standing and somehow the kiss doesn’t even break and Dean’s lungs are fighting him because they need more air but he’d be alright to drown in Cas’ kiss.

He would be so fucking alright with that. They kiss as they stumble toward the tent, breaking for air and whispered words ( _stay, yes, please, i will, i promise_ ), and Dean is dizzy when they part to crawl into the tent and he seeks Castiel out with his lips again, tracing along his jaw and chin, and Castiel’s hands are so warm on his skin under his shirt, and okay, okay, this is happening, and Cas loves him, and Dean doesn’t know what the fuck he’s feeling because if  _this_ is love then he’s never felt anything like it before.

They take off their clothes, strip to their underwear, and crawl into the same sleeping bag. Castiel kisses his face and whispers things to him that he’ll keep to himself for the rest of his pathetic existence, and he thinks he might be dreaming. And maybe he cries, but that’s nobody’s business but Castiel’s, and maybe they all asleep together without pushing things further, both more than fulfilled with kisses and warm hands tracing skin, and maybe that’s perfectly okay.

Maybe Dean’s in love with a fallen angel, and maybe that angel loves him, and maybe that’s not something that should have happened, but it did.

It did, and that’s perfectly okay, too.

In the morning he doesn’t remember why he was so against camping, and if Sam notices the way they keep smiling to each other, or the way they keep touching each other accidentally on purpose, he doesn’t say anything, and just smiles at them both like he understands.


End file.
